


Closer to Heaven

by MarieQuiteContrarie (SeaStar1330)



Series: Morning Glory [3]
Category: Anyelle - Fandom, Macelle - Fandom, Once Upon a Time (TV), The Tournament (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anyelle, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Macelle - Freeform, Married Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2018-12-31 16:26:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12136431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaStar1330/pseuds/MarieQuiteContrarie
Summary: Some fluffy Macelle love scenes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous Prompted: Morning Glory Joseph, Has Belle ever woken you up with a blow job?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Macelle (Belle French and Joseph MacAvoy) married PWP set within my Morning Glory verse. 
> 
> Each chapter stands on its own, but Morning Glory should probably be read first.

Joseph blinks awake, a surge of warmth and pressure against his cock. His body feels wet, sticky, and painfully aroused. Had his pished himself right in the middle of their bed or come in the middle of a dream? Frantic, he pats the sheets. When he finds them dry, he fumbles for his crotch, but his fingers meet a warm, soft tumble of curls, rather than his balls.

“Morning, my love,” Belle says, peering up from between his spread thighs with a wicked grin. She flicks out her tongue, swirling it over the swelling head of his cock. 

His cheeks suffuse with heat. Belle’s intent is unmistakable.

“We’re gonna do this while it’s light out?” he asks, horrified by the desperate, pathetic way he’s already scrabbling at her hair to keep her mouth on his cock. She sucks on the tip of him, her lips soft and molten hot, licking and stroking him with her tongue until he’s standing as tall and proud as a soldier.

“With the curtains open?” he clarifies weakly, nodding toward the sunlight streaming through the open window.

“That’s right,” she says, releasing him with a pop. His cock springs upward, jutting obscenely into the air.

He slumps down, allowing his spine to sink into the soft feather bed with a grunt of surrender. He’s already lost the battle.

“Mmmmmm.” Belle moans around his cock, and _mercy_ the vibration of her vocal cords shoots wild sparks of electricity through his limbs. “We live on the second floor, no one’s going to look in and see us. Now stop interrupting me, husband.” The smile she gives him is at once soothing and teasing, and she cups his sac, giving it a light, upward stroke with her nails. “Unless it’s with your cries of pleasure. Those are more than welcome.”

Joseph makes a strangled sound of assent.

Through half-open eyes, he watches as Belle dips her head, gliding up and down his cock with her exquisite mouth while her hands caress his inner thighs, occasionally tugging at the light sprinkling of hair on his legs. She is miraculous in her loving, so attentive and thorough. Aye, the most generous creature he’s ever known this side of heaven. Joseph slides his eyes closed on a breathy moan, letting the pleasure sweep over him as his tip bumps the back of her throat.

She pulls back for a moment, and he sobs with the loss. The wet heat of her mouth is almost as incredible as being inside her. Then— _oh God, yes_ —her soft, warm hand replaces her mouth, maintaining the pressure with a tight fist around his cock. She pumps him once, twice, then clenches her fingers around him hard.

He sobs again, tossing his head on the pillow, then squeezes his eyes shut.

“Yes, my Joseph, I want to hear you,” she demands, and _oh God_ , her voice is hoarse and throaty from taking him so deep. He opens his eyes to watch her chest rise and fall, her eyes dark with passion. She mouths the underside of his cock and licks his balls, his veins throbbing in the wake of her sharp little teeth.

“More, Belle, I need _more,”_ he begs. “Please, please…feels so good.”

Belle returns to sucking, harder and faster, and behind his eyelids, light floods the room as the sun rises higher. His voice becomes a garbled wreck of grunts and praises as he arches and strains, tangling his hands in Belle’s thick curls where they cover his crotch.

He wouldn’t have noticed if his arse was bared to the entire town and she was loving him on top of the soda fountain counter, he is so far gone. Both her hands are wrapped around the base of his cock and she’s bobbing faster, stopping at the top to tongue his slit on every stroke.

“Blessed Virgin,” he cries out, his back bowing of the bed. His world turns white and hot spurts of cum shoot into her mouth as he jerks his hips, feeling her throat work as she swallows, her insistent sucking drawing out his orgasm until he’s a sweaty, panting mess.

When he returns to awareness and opens his eyes, she’s leaning over him, cheeks flushed, a smug smile on her lovely face. “How was that?”

“Felt like the angels themselves had come to collect me,” he confesses, still panting. “Surely heaven itself cannot be better. And you? What about your pleasure?”

“Well,” she says, drawing his hand down her thigh and pressing his fingers to her mound, “I have a few ideas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why the smut comes to me so easily for these two, but it does.
> 
> Apparently I am accepting prompts: http://mariequitecontrarie.tumblr.com/ask


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RowofStars prompted: Morning Glory Joseph, ever return the favor to Belle?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is a happily married man to do?

Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all.

Joseph inches the blanket back over Belle’s hips and rubs a hand through his tangled hair.

It’s a cold, grey Saturday morning, ideal for snuggling under the duvet and sleeping long past the alarm. But he’s hard and aching; visions of Belle writhing in pleasure make his cock twitch. He palms himself and moans, yearning to touch the creamy expanse of skin above her breasts. She shifts in her sleep and exposes one soft mound, her nipple a dusty pink and puckering in the cool morning air. 

He rubs his fingers together, then reaches for the duvet once more. His hand freezes, hovering above the covers, then he snatches it back and wraps his arms around his knees.

What if she gets annoyed or angry? Belle has never gotten upset with him for enjoying her body, but he’s also never tried making love to her when she’s still asleep. She’d done it for him, and he’s used his mouth on her many times, but what if she doesn’t want him now? Belle is always the one to initiate their lovemaking, and he wouldn’t dream of asking her for more than she already gives.

 _Coward_ , he chides himself. He steals another longing glance at his wife.

Saturday is Belle’s day off at the library, and Clark is in charge of the store today. Neither of them have anywhere to be.

And the cool, rainy weather begs for a cozy day indoors with the woman he loves.

Resolute, he sucks in a deep breath and lifts the duvet once more, his mouth watering at the sight of Belle’s transparent knickers. Tentatively, he ghosts the pad of one calloused finger over her soft, warm mound, and she moans in her sleep.

With the practiced ease of a newlywed, he slips his fingers beneath the waistband of her knickers and eases them down her smooth thighs. Joseph sits back on his haunches and looks his fill. Belle’s sex is pink and lovely, crowned with gorgeous copper curls a shade darker than those on her head. She lifts her hips slightly, and Joseph’s gaze rushes to her face. His wife is still asleep, but already damp with arousal.

He leans closer, nostrils flaring as he catches her scent. Belle smells divine—like the freesia perfume she favors and a fresh, clean earthiness that belongs to her alone.

Careful not to scratch her sensitive flesh with his nails, he eases forward to part her folds with his fingers and drops a kiss to her center. He slides his hands beneath her calves and runs them up the backs of her toned, slender legs until he is cradling the backs of her knees in his palms. Maybe later, when she’s awake, she’ll let him kiss and suck on the backs of her knees—just the way she likes—while he brings her off with his hands. A groan falls from her lips and she tilts her hips toward him, then trails a hand down her stomach to cup her sex.

“Belle,” he whispers, his cock surging as she begins to touch herself, drawing her middle finger down her slit with another soft groan.

“Belle,” he says, louder this time as her thumb and forefinger join in, pinching her clit. Mouth hanging open, he watches her finger herself and he squeezes the base of his cock, feeling randy and silly and new. It’s supposed to be the blushing bride, or so the saying goes, but he’s the one with permanent fire in his cheeks.

“Joseph?” Dreamy, unfocused eyes blink at him, then her gaze sharpens and moves to his erect cock.

He looks down at himself, rigid to the point of pain from the sight and smell of her. “I’m sorry, Belle. I wanted to...” He trails off, mortified by the confusion on her face.

But she licks her lips and draws the hand circling his cock back to her mound, now glistening with arousal. “I thought I was dreaming,” she says, her voice still husky and raw from sleep. “Come to me.”

“You’re sure?” he asks hoarsely. Suddenly shy, he casts his eyes toward the bed.

“Lick me.” She reaches for him, twisting her fingers in his hair, and draws his head down to rest on her mound.

Emboldened by her permission, he begins with gentle licks along her slit, pressing his nose and lips against her hot, silky wetness.

“Oh yessss,” she hisses, her eyes widening when he presses first one finger, then another inside her.

The sweet, salty taste of her essence melts on his tongue, and he goes back for more, lapping eagerly. More sweetness. He moans against her sex, scraping her folds with his stubble as he licks and nibbles and worships her. “You taste so _good,_ Belle.” He moves higher, until he is circling the precious wee pearl that makes her pant and howl. Her clit is swollen and pink and soaking wet.

She digs her fingers into his skull and holds him there with a gasping cry. “Don’t stop!”

Belle is flushed and tousled and gorgeous in her pleasure, her pink lips parted around a string of moans, damp tendrils of hair flattened against her forehead. He presses the flat of his tongue against her clit, alternating between teasing licks and insistent sucks. She flutters around his tongue, and the delicious whines and moans filling his ears make the fire in his belly burn hotter.

All he wants is to please her; his beautiful Belle. He closes his mouth over her once more and sucks, hard, his fingers still furiously working inside her. She cries out, rocking her hips against his face, harder and faster, pressing her pearl against his mouth until he’s drowning in milk and honey, her taste and scent overwhelming as he laps at her skin.

“My bonny Belle…taste so good.” His cock is painfully hard and hot and he presses himself into the mattress, desperate for the pressure. But he cannot think selfishly of his own need while Belle is writhing for him and digging her nails into his scalp, her hips jerking in sharp, upward thrusts to keep his lips sealed against her sex. She clasps her hands around his neck like a vice, riding his face as she wails.

“Yes, _yes_. Feels so good. Come so hard…with your mouth… Oh _Joseph_!”

She screams and liquid gushes from her core, sweeter and headier than wine, and he drinks down every drop while her channel clenches around his fingers.

Joseph can’t bear another moment of torment. He lurches to his knees and fists his cock, his hand coated in Belle’s cream. The sight of her sweetness covering his cock is too much and he throws back his head, coming with a shout, his seed spilling across her thighs and belly. Long ropes of cum glisten on her skin, and Joseph catches Belle watching as he palms himself through his orgasm, her eyes wide and dark and sated. When he finishes, she opens her arms to him. He collapses on top of her in a breathless heap, then rolls off her body and draws her against his side.

Belle reaches for the box of tissues on the nightstand and cleans them both, wiping his shrinking cock gently, then kissing his sweaty forehead.

“Well,” she says, “that was…”

“Aye.” Pleased with himself, he grins at her and begins to hum a little tune a he lifts the blankets, smoothing them over her shoulders.

He sneaks another look at her. “Was it…good?” he dares to ask. Belle’s eyes are bleary but she’s smiling, and he’s pretty sure he knows the answer, but the need for affirmation tumbles out nonetheless.

“Are you kidding?” The sound of her laughter is sweet and clear and she rubs her nose against his. “Joseph, you may not be clergy anymore, but you certainly know how to bring a girl closer to heaven.”                                       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two are so in love I can't help it.
> 
>  Open for prompts in the comments and here: http://mariequitecontrarie.tumblr.com/ask


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RowofStars prompted: So, Morning Glory!Macelle, have you guys ever gotten up to naughty things at work? Either the drug store/fountain or the library?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Macelle smut. I guess I should stop making excuses, hmmm?

Joseph hears the creak of the side door as it eases open. He’s almost finished cataloguing Aisle Five and he rises from his crouched position, wiping the dust from an empty carton on his jeans. “Clark?” he calls out over his shoulder. “Thought I told you to go on…”

The familiar cadence of stiletto heels stops his speech and he whirls around. The overnight lighting in the store is dim, but the moon is low and bright tonight, and he’s accustomed to working in relative darkness. Even in the shadows, he knows exactly who has slipped into the store. Frustration bubbles up, and he bites the inside of his cheek and prays for patience.

“Just me,” Belle says with a saucy little wave, as if he didn’t know the sound of those footfalls anywhere.

“Belle!” He shakes his head and rushes toward her, meeting her between Aisles Three and Four. He smooths his rough, dirt-smudged hands down her arms from shoulder to elbow. “What are you doing here?”

She dodges his question with one of her own. “How’s inventory night going?”

“Everything’s fine here.” He furrows his brow. “Is anything wrong at home? Why didn’t you call?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” She grazes his cheek with her warm lips.

They shuffle into the dim light together and he takes in her ensemble: a short black raincoat he’s never seen before and towering, deep green heels.

He stiffens and bites down on his cheek again before speaking. A gentle answer turns away wrath. “Then why were you out walking late at night by yourself?”

She rolls her eyes at the familiar path of the conversation. “It’s Storybrooke,” she reminds him for the fiftieth time.

“Doesn’t matter. And, aye, I know you have a black belt in Tae Kwon Do and are perfectly capable of defending yourself. I dinna care,” he says, his brogue growing thicker with mounting concern. He’s an easygoing man and he doesn’t believe in “putting his foot down” with a woman, let alone his wife, but in the matter of Belle’s safety he is insistent. “So I ask you again: what are you doing here?”

From his days in the priesthood, he’d seen too many young women come into his church, bloody and bruised and frightened by some lowlife scum who’d accosted them on the dark streets of Middlesbrough, and he’ll not allow his wife to be one of them. Tough she may be, but she is still his. His to cherish and love and protect.

"Belle?" he presses when she doesn't reply.

“I couldn’t sleep. Missed you.” Belle pulls her lips into a delicate moue, her eyes wide and sorrowful. “Are you very angry with me, Joseph?”

“Nay.” He hauls her close, pressing his lips to her temple as he whispers. “I just worry. Don’t you know you’re my treasure, my greatest blessing? I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”

“I know. I love you so much. I’m sorry.” She smiles at him, the moment of discomfort between them already forgotten. “Where is Clark and the others?”

“I sent them home, my bonny love.” He tweaks her nose. “It’s not right to expect people to come into work at seven to open the store when it’s already half past three in the morning.”

“You work much too hard, my Joseph.”

He doesn’t mind, truly he doesn’t. He loves this store almost as much as he loves his wife. Besides, years of insomnia and waking for middle-of-the-night prayer vigils make sleeping more than four hours in a stretch difficult. He supposes it’s why he turned to the bottle in the first place; at least when he passed out from too much drink, he could be at rest for a wee while before the need to vomit his guts out woke him again. These days, with Belle resting at his side, sleep and its accompanying peace come easy. 

"It's work I love; you know that." He lifts her hand to his lips and kisses her fingers.

“Yes.” Her nod is quick and eager. “I’m so proud of you, you know. And speaking of…I was hoping you could help me with something?” She inclines her head and waits.

“Anything.”

“Good.” She sashays to the soda fountain counter and runs her nails over the top of her favorite stool. He shudders, remembering the feel of those nails carving little crescents into the skin of his back this morning as she moaned her pleasure. She throws him a come-hither look, then hops up onto her stool and crosses her legs. “Because I need…service.” Belle’s sweet smile has turned sassy and she runs the long, sharp heel of one dark green shoe down her toned calf.

“What’ll it be?” he asks, slipping behind the counter. “How ‘bout a black and white milkshake?”

“No.” A moonbeam pierces the large front window, alighting her dark, hungry eyes. “What I need from you requires you to be on _this_ side of the counter.” Squirming against the vinyl, she loosens the belt of the short raincoat, parting it below the waist to reveal her beautiful, naked sex.

Ah, now he knows exactly what his wife is up to. “Where are your knickers, my bonny sweet?”

Her careless shrug makes him smile. “Must’ve forgotten them.”

“Aye, you’re a naughty thing.” He swallows a mouthful of saliva and glances at the front window, relieved to see the street is dark and still. “Belle,” he says, a last-ditch effort at modesty, “why don’t you come back here where it’s more private?”

She peeks over the counter at the bulge in his jeans and licks her lips. “Why don’t you come out here and touch me?”

He doesn’t have to be asked twice.

Joseph rounds the corner and vaults into her open arms. He kisses her then, the sweet, soft joining of mouths spiraling into a hard, messy tangle of teeth and tongues. Moving his mouth down her neck and across her shoulders, he hears the whisk of her coat as it hits the floor, leaving her completely bare. She tips her torso backward, reclining against the counter while he burns a path to her breasts, circling the areola with flicks of his tongue. “So beautiful,” he tells her between licks.

“My nipples,” she gasps, “bite them.”

He obeys, scraping each pointed bud ever so lightly with his teeth until she pulls his hair and cries out.

He returns his mouth to hers and she sucks the tip of his tongue into her mouth, mimicking the feel of her flesh clenching his cock. Joseph moans, his erection nearly bursting out of the scratchy denim trousers. Belle seems to read his mind as she reaches for his button and zipper, pushing his pants and underwear down until they pool at his ankles.

She fondles him in her warm palm, rubbing the bit of fluid leaking from his head all over his cock while she readies him with her words, crooning about how wet she is, how badly she needs him to fill her, how ready she is, how much she loves him.

Joseph kneels at her feet and adjusts the stool until Belle is seated at the perfect height for him to join their bodies. He stands, then parts her thighs and slides into her wet heat, moving in shallow quick thrusts that graze her clit with every stroke. It isn’t long before her jagged moans increase in volume and intensity, telling him she’s close. Soon she trembles around him and throws her head back with a cry, coming hard and fast. He opens his mouth against her exposed throat as he thrusts deeper, sucking on the soft flesh, bruising her delicate skin.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he chants, and Belle wraps her legs around his flanks and presses her heels into his ass for leverage. He lifts her tighter against him, raising her body off the stool until he’s supporting her slight weight. The new angle squeezes his cock tighter and he is blinded by a white light, finishing with a groan as he pulses against Belle’s wet flesh.

His legs wobble, both with the power of his orgasm and the effort of holding her, and he sets her down on the stool. They separate, and he closes his trousers over his sticky cock, then picks up the raincoat and wraps it around her, snug and tight.

He’ll have to clean the stool thoroughly before they open in the morning, but it’s a small price to pay for the gift Belle has given him tonight.

He presses a tender kiss to her forehead. “You all right?”

“Mmmm,” she purrs. “I’m perfect. Just give me a minute before I can walk.”

He eases onto the stool next to her and wraps his arms around her. “You want me to take you home?”

She nestles her head into the crook between his shoulder and neck, and he feels her smile against his skin. “Always.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you had fun! <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bookwormchocaholic prompted: Joseph drops by the library to visit Belle for some shenanigans... is almost caught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t be responsible for these two anymore. They are incorrigible.
> 
> Thanks to magnoliatattoo for helping with the logistics ;)

“Belle, _please_.” Joseph shifts in the chair and bunches his hands into tight fists, fighting the urge to touch himself.

“Please, what?” She flirts with the hemline of her short, pleated skirt, granting him another tantalizing glimpse of pink lace panties. The center is darker where her arousal has leaked through and _oh dear God_ she’s unbuttoning her blouse now. Off it comes, flying toward the bookcase in the corner, and her bra follows. She tosses it into his lap with a wink, one soft silky cup catching on his erection. He watches, fascinated, as the fluid leaking from his tip dampens the center of her bra.

Naked from the waist up, she prances in front of him, dancing just out of reach. “What do you _want,_ Joseph?”

Unable to muster a reply, Joseph shuts his eyes on a groan.

His own chest is bare to the navel and his jeans are unbuttoned and sagging around his knobby knees. Beyond the door of Belle’s office, the library hums with activity, patrons stopping on their lunch hour to check out and return books.

There’s even a knitting klatch happening in the conference room next door. These are the things he reminds himself to keep from coming without even his own fumbling hand to guide his cock to release.

This hadn’t been what he had in mind when he’d arrived at the library with lunch for the two of them twenty minutes earlier, but as always, his sexy, clever wife had other ideas. She’d kissed him hello in greeting and slammed her office door in one motion, then pushed him into the soft leather chair at her desk and attacked his belt.

Hence his current state. Wrecked, debauched, and half naked. Again he lunges forward, trying to capture her wrist and drag her toward him without leaving the chair.

“No, no,” she reminds him with a singsong smirk. “Hands on the armrests, please.”

He complies, digging his fingers so hard into the leather he fears he may scratch the office chair. He bites down on his tongue to smother a frustrated moan.

“What do you want?” she repeats.

 _Everything_ , he wants to cry out. Her tits in his mouth, her gorgeous lips surrounding his cock, his mouth worshipping her honeyed sex. But to give voice to those desires? No—to confess his depraved needs aloud in the cool, still air of her office in the library seems impossible.

Belle licks her finger and touches the wet digit to one pouting red nipple. The bud puckers and swells, glistening with dew like the freshly washed strawberries he packed in the picnic basket for lunch.

“Belle,” he whines, licking his cracked lips.

But she’s busy palming her breasts, eyes closed, her breath coming hard and fast.

“Oh!” She works her nipples harder, pinching and rolling them, and stares at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Her skirt is tucked into the front of her frilly panties and he can see where she’s soaked the gusset; even her thighs now shine with arousal. Joseph watches in desperate amazement as the pink flush of her cheeks trails down her neck and chest and _oh, how he longs to kiss her there_.

“Belle!” His cock jumps and if he doesn’t make a decision soon, he’ll erupt without even touching her. “Ah, I need…”

“Yes,” she pants, still rubbing her breasts, “what do you need, my love?”

Her soft, loving tone encourages him, relaxing his tongue.

“Your-your underwear. Take them off, pl-please.”

“Anything for my Joseph,” she croons, and the whisper of silk sliding down her legs nearly undoes him. Disobeying her earlier instructions, he grips the base of his cock and whines.

Belle lifts her tiny skirt again and shows him her naked mound, the curls soft and glistening with arousal. When she moves to unzip the skirt, he stops her. There’s something so decadent and sinful about knowing she’s completely naked underneath. Her hand snakes under the hemline again, and he knows she’s fondling her beautiful, pink folds. Mesmerized, he cups his balls and draws them up; the heat radiating from his skin seems to scald his fingertips.

“Do you know what I do in here when I’m supposed to be working?” Her voice is low, gravelly.

“Tell me,” he chokes out, his hips lifting off the chair.

She bites down on her lower lip and eyes his erection. “Sometimes I sit at my desk and touch myself until I come. I imagine your hands on me, your mouth everywhere at once…your big, beautiful cock slamming into me over and over.” She returns her hands to her tits and pulls the nipples, hard and sharp. “I even forget to lock the door…”

Joseph’s eyes close as his mind paints the image of his wife pleasuring herself to dreams of _him_. Lost to passion, he begins to pump his cock harder, squeezing a little at the top of each thrust.

“Ride me!” he blurts, desperate to have her. Blinded by need, he has at last found his voice, certain he’ll die if Belle doesn’t touch him now, this instant.

Still massaging her breasts, Belle moves forward to straddle him, settling across his thighs. Her kiss is deep and wet and sloppy, and the grind of her sex against his cock is exquisite torture. Finally able to touch her, a strangled cry tears from his chest while his hands roam everywhere at once: her belly, her thighs, her breasts, then tangling in her hair to kiss her again and again. Hands braced on either side of the chair, she lines herself up and begins to move.

“No.” He shakes his head, stopping her first thrust. He gulps, unable to believe his own boldness. “Turn around.”

“Oh Joseph.” Belle’s smile is sweet and eager. “So naughty.” She shifts, turning in his lap, until her plump, dimpled bottom is in his face. He caresses the curve of her ass as she adjusts, leaning forward to take him deep, splaying her hands across his trembling knees for support. She slams down on his rigid cock, grunting in effort. She sets a steady rhythm and he helps her, bunching her skirt in his fists as he holds her hips. From this angle, he can see the elegant curve of her neck, her lithe, dancer’s back, her ribcage rising and falling as they join, messy and tangled and hot. Her ass grazes his lower belly, and the greedy squelch of flesh meeting flesh has him gasping and shunting his hips.

“Ah! Ah!” Her cries are growing louder, and Belle turns her head to gaze at him with lovestruck eyes, her mouth open on a moan while she bounces on his cock. “You want it harder, baby?”

“No,” he chokes out, dragging her backward against his chest. He kisses her soft and slow, changing the tempo. He wants her flush against him, needing to feel every inch of her body as they make love. He sets up a new rhythm, lifting her slowly up and down while he rotates his hips in small, tight circles. She throws her head back and her eyes roll back in her head, and God, she’s gorgeous in her abandon.

“Like this, like this, like _this…”_ he murmurs, showing her with his body that he wants soft, slow strokes, his oversensitive cock just grazing her moist heat.

“Joseph!” she sobs. “Oh! I’m so close!”

He finds her clit with his fingers and rubs it furiously while he sucks her neck and cups her delicious breast with his other hand.

There is a gush of liquid against his fingers and he drags the hand toying with her nipple to her mouth, catching her scream. The hot, wet press of her sex clamps around him when she comes, milking his cock, and he bites down on her shoulder to stifle his own moan as he pulses into her.

She slumps back against his chest with a delighted laugh and the chair squeaks. “Well, you certainly showed me what you wanted.”

Joseph grins against her hair, proud of himself because Belle is proud of him.

A sharp knock at the door sends Belle catapulting off his lap, and she hurriedly shoves her arms into her blouse and buttons it while he arranges his own clothing. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that her skirt is wrinkled and wet with their shared pleasure.

“Belle?” a sweet, clear voice calls out after a moment, and the handle turns and the door creaks open.

Joseph crosses his legs and tries to look nonchalant, reaching into his picnic basket and flinging a sandwich onto the desk. Belle throws herself back into his lap and curves her arms around his neck, nearly knocking them both backwards.

It’s Astrid Mackenzie, one of Belle’s assistant librarians, and a fellow former sister of the cloth.

“Belle are you—oh! Hello, Joseph. I didn’t realize you were here.” She smiles at them over the pile of books in her arms.

“Aye, hello Astrid. Just here bringing Belle lunch,” he says, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. It’s not a total lie, he reasons.

“I see. Well, I’m sorry to interrupt your break, but children’s story hour is going to start in five minutes and I know how you hate to miss it, Belle…” The petite brunette trails off, and Joseph follows her eyes to where his wife’s panties are hanging on the lampshade across the room.

“Yes! Great! I’ll be right there,” Belle promises with a bright smile.

“I’ll let the little ones know. Oh, and Belle?” Astrid winks. “You might want to fix your blouse and put your bra back on before you join us for circle time.”

He shares a heated, embarrassed glance with Belle, whose face is scarlet. The buttons on her blouse are askew and she looks thoroughly flushed and well pleasured.

Clearly, Astrid knows exactly what’s been going on inside Belle’s office. “And lock the door next time,” she admonishes with a chuckle. Before the door swings closed he hears another tinkle of laughter, another muffled word.

“What did she say?” Belle asks, rising to adjust her clothing.

He smiles and draws her into his lap again to give those plump, red lips a parting kiss. “She said ‘Newlyweds.’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot of reading getting done in Belle's office.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joseph and Belle try something new in the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to MagnoliaTattoo, who is a lifesaver.

Yes! Yes!” Belle screams. “ _Joseph!”_

Her back bows off the bed as she rides out the pleasure of her orgasm, her hands locked behind his head. Keening loudly, she writhes against his face, and Joseph hums against her sex, lapping up the juices from her swollen flesh.

This marks the third time tonight he made his wife climax with only his mouth. His ego is beyond sated, but his cock is rigid and throbbing. He starts to make a plea for relief, but his wife’s eyes are closed and she is still panting. He draws a tentative finger down her slit and she hisses, thrashing her head and closing her legs protectively.

“Belle, are you all right?” Worry tightens his chest and dulls his desire, and he pulls his hand away. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no,” she says drowsily, her eyelids at half-mast. “You didn’t hurt me, Joseph. I guess I’m just too sensitive.”  She shudders, and they both look down at his cock, red and weeping at the tip.

 _Sensitive._ Ah, her meaning dawns on him. He overstimulated her with his mouth and hands, and she won’t be able to take him inside her.

“That’s all right, sweetheart.” He lets out a strangled laugh as his balls tighten, and reaches for his underwear. 

It’s his own fault, after all.

After modeling some lingerie for him this afternoon, Belle had suggested a quickie in the alley between the ladies’ store and the shop next door where he buys his jeans and work shirts. But it had been pouring rain, plus Astrid Mackenzie had already caught them _in flagrante_ at the library last week. He had no intention of baring his arse to any more Storybrooke denizens.

When they'd raced up the two flights of stairs to their apartment, soaked and laughing, he'd steered Belle toward the bedroom and gotten rather carried away in making it up to her. Her exuberant moans had encouraged him so much that he’d brought her to the peak over and over, not wanting to stop, and now he’d pushed them both too far.

He shifts his legs over the side of the bed and looks down at his poor, flushed cock, then decides to cool off in an ice-cold shower.

It would be a lie to say he isn’t disappointed, but the thought of hurting Belle in any way makes his gut lurch with nausea. He’d gone to sleep with a raging hard-on many times before in his single, celibate days, and he can do it tonight. Belle’s comfort matters far more than his release.

He moves to stand, but Belle leans up from the pillows to catch his wrist, then strokes his cock from base to tip. He closes his eyes and slumps back on the bed, uncaring that his underwear has slid to the floor. Her hand feels so cool and soft against his scorching flesh and he bucks into her palm with a groan.

“I’m not going to leave you like this, baby,” she coos. “ I have an idea.”

Intrigued, Joseph groans as a fresh wave of blood pulses through his cock. He feels like he is strangling, as though he can’t breathe through the intensity of his need.

He turns toward her, shifting to his knees and crawling closer as she cradles his balls in her hand and continues to work him with slow, gentle strokes. His eyes slide closed in bliss. _Yes, if she could keep doing that, just like that…_ She twists her wrist and he _howls_ , his eyes flying open as she squeezes him hard.

“Do I have your attention?” she asks with a sultry smile.

Joseph grunts in reply, watching her intently as she reclines on her back once more and crooks a finger at him.

Belle reaches between her thighs to gather the wetness there and smears it across her breasts. Joseph’s breath starts coming in gasps as she spreads her essence all over her firm, silky breasts, her own eyes drifting closed on a moan as she lingers at her flushed nipples.

He palms himself, the sight of Belle rubbing her breasts nearly enough to make him come. “Belle,” he whines. “Can you…ah…what was your idea?”

She opens one eye and smiles at him lazily. She pats her smooth, flat belly, a quiet invitation. “Straddle my stomach, Joseph.”

“All right.” His breath hitches as he obeys, drawing himself up and over her body, his cock dripping a bead of fluid into her navel.  He settles across her taut belly, his cock pointed in the direction of her mouth, still swollen from his kisses, and her sex-lubed breasts. He gulps, uncertain about what will happen next. “Now-now what?”

“Do you trust me, Joseph?” she asks, reading his scattered thoughts the way she always does.

“Yes,” he breathes, awestruck as she pushes her breasts together in the center of her chest, cupping and squeezing, her fingers still pulling and rolling her nipples.

“Come here. Guide yourself between my breasts.”

Joseph inches forward slowly, beginning to pump himself into the tunnel between her breasts while Belle pushes them together, inviting his cock to slide forward and back. The feel of her soft skin against his engorged manhood is divine, and the cool air as the tip pokes past those glorious mounds is a welcome sensation on his heated flesh.

“Ah, Belle,” he moans, “you’re so bonny. This feels…it’s almost like I’m inside you but…oh God!”

Trembling, he continues to slide between her breasts slowly, the precum leaking from his tip lubricating Belle’s breasts and giving them even more friction, his balls gliding against her softness with every stroke. Then she lowers her chin and opens her mouth, her impossibly blue eyes beckoning him without a word. The way she looks at him—her eyes wide and sparkling, her mouth open and breath hot against his tip, her lips swollen and flushed and glistening—is enough to make him come, but what she is offering…  Joseph squeezes his eyes shut in effort to regain control, before the dam bursts and he spills his seed all over her face.

“Belle!” He groans, his hips thrusting in a rhythm all their own. He isn’t going to make it much longer, but he has to be sure.

She leans up slightly, and the way her tongue flicks out at the apex of his thrust all the answer he needs. Her lips brush the slit of his cockhead to taste the dribble of cum there. “Mmmmmm, my Joseph, you taste delicious.” She pushes her breasts together harder, tightening around his shaft as her mouth opens wider, allowing him to push in and pull out of her mouth with each stroke.

The debauchery of the act overwhelms Joseph, and he clings to Belle, drowning in a vortex of pleasure. Nothing exists but his wife, her gorgeous breasts surrounding him, her hot mouth sucking him, and the wonder that she belongs to him is more than he can comprehend. He watches his cock dip into her mouth again and again, holding off his orgasm as long as possible, prolonging this exciting new pleasure. Then his hands cover hers on her soft, plump tits, helping her to squeeze his cock even tighter, and he is gone.

He clenches his teeth, a strangled cry escaping his throat as his world turns white and his head falls back. Blinded by ecstasy, he feels himself spill, waves of pleasure rolling through his belly as his cock spurts against her velvety, hot skin. 

“Yes, baby, yes.” Dimly, he hears Belle’s encouragements past the roar in his ears as he rides out his orgasm. He slows his thrusts and quiets, opening his eyes with a whimper, his vision blurry and his head light. Belle is covered in his cum, the image making his spent cock twitch.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” He begins to babble, but his Belle is ever patient, and squeezes his knee to stop his apologies.

“Don’t be. That was so hot, baby. I love watching you come.” She licks a small, white drop from the corner of her mouth.

With a groan, Joseph climbs off Belle’s body and falls to her side, exhausted and satiated. Belle pulls a tissue from the box on the nightstand and wipes her throat and chin, then cleans his cock thoroughly, her other hand carding through his hair as he recovers.

“I love you, Joseph,” she whispers through a tired smile.

“And I you.” Joseph manages a shy smile in response, still stunned by what they had done and how much he’d loved it.

Belle snuggles closer and pulls the quilt over their cooling bodies and he pillows his head on her breasts, lapping lazily at her nipples, still slightly sticky and salty from their pleasure.

“Mmmmmm,” she moans, threading her fingers through his hair and massaging his scalp. “Are you sure you don’t want to try making love in the rain sometime?”

He smiles against her breasts and closes his eyes. “Why not?”

###

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle is caught in a rainstorm and returns home to find Joseph cleaning. Of course when he sees Belle's white, soaked shirt, he can't keep his hands off her. What's a poor woobie to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally contrived caught-in-the-rain goodness, from Belle's POV. Also, Joseph gets a little rough and tries a little dirty talk, which, let’s be honest, isn’t dirty at all. This is a little longer than the other chapters. I don't know why.
> 
> Thanks to rowofstars and magnoliatattoo for the prompts. xoxo
> 
> Not beta'd, so there may be an error here or there.

It was a bad day for a run.

The promising spring day had turned cold, and in the middle of Belle’s second mile, the skies open up, declaring that winter in Maine is not yet over. Fat, icy raindrops begin to fall, and she turns around and heads back to the apartment, her running shoes skidding along the wet pavement. Her jogging gear—a pair of Joseph’s boxer briefs and a thin white t-shirt—hadn’t been a wise choice. Neither had forgoing a sports bra.

Teeth chattering, she jogs up the stairs to their second-floor flat, her hands shaking with cold as she fumbles for the key and opens the door.

Joseph is in middle of the apartment, a dust cloth tucked into the waistband of his pajama pants, gliding their second-hand vacuum across the living room carpet. The ipod she gave him for his birthday is attached to the earbuds in his ears, and his loud, off-key singing to a rock-and-roll version of “Amazing Grace” rivals the roar of the vacuum.

She’s wet and freezing, but she can’t help but stand there and gape while he cleans the apartment, admiring the way the lithe muscles of his arms bunch and relax as he pushes the vacuum, and how the ribbed sleeveless t-shirt he wears hugs his slender torso. Kicking off her running shoes, she wriggles out of her drenched, icy socks, then stuff them inside the discarded shoes.

Joseph’s eyes widen when he sees her, still hovering inside the door, dripping and shivering and gawking at him like an idiot. He smiles, her favorite lopsided grin, then switches off the vacuum cleaner and plucks out his earphones. “Belle, you’re back.” His brow knits together and he glances toward the windows in the front of the apartment, where the rain is sheeting against the glass. “I didn’t hear the rain.”

“It’s pouring.” Bemused, she steps closer and shakes her head, sending more tiny raindrops pattering from the ends of her hair onto the carpet. She glances guiltily at the trail of water behind her on the freshly vacuumed carpet. “I can’t believe you’re cleaning on a Sunday morning. You work too hard, and I’m making a mess.”

He shrugs and sets the ipod down on the sofa table. “I wanted the house clean for you when you came home.” His gaze roams over her, moving from her face to her soaked t-shirt, now fitting like a second skin thanks to the rain. His chocolate brown eyes darken with desire, and Belle sucks in a breath.

She looks down at herself, the outline of her breasts clearly visible, her nipples dark and jutting out against the soaked material. Beckoning him closer to touch and taste. She runs her teeth over her bottom lip and stares back, taking in the quiver of his lips, his dark hair falling over one eye, his lean belly rippling beneath his thin t-shirt.

“I should get you a towel or a blanket,” he says, but makes no move to get either. “Would you like tea?” His hand tightens around the handle of the vacuum cleaner, his hungry gaze still fixated on her breasts.

Belle smiles. She knows what he wants, what they both want.

“Or, you could come over here and warm me up.”

He releases his grip on the vacuum and charges toward her, shoving her hard against the wall. There’s nothing gentle in his kiss; it’s sloppy and demanding, his tongue plunging into her mouth and his teeth jagged points against her lips, scraping the tender flesh, threatening to devour her. Frantic hands find her breasts, kneading and plucking her tight nipples through her wet shirt. She tilts her head back, relishing the rough press of the hard, cold wall against her scalp, her mouth dropping open when he begins to suckle her through the wet cotton.

Wetness spreads between her thighs, and her core begins to throb. She rubs her mound against his hardness, desperate for pressure, and _oh God, yes!_ he drives his thigh between her legs, both easing and inflaming that sweet-hot ache. She clutches his shoulders and rides his thigh, the rough heat of his mouth on her nipples almost enough to make her come.

A crash sounds behind them and he jerks his mouth away from her breasts with a groan, his eyes feral, almost black with lust. The vacuum cleaner has fallen against the end table, and the lamp her father gave them as a wedding gift is in pieces on the floor.

“Leave it,” Belle pants, tugging on his hair to draw his head back to her chest. “Keep sucking me, Joseph, _please!”_

He nuzzles her breasts with a frustrated moan and moves to lifts the hem of her t-shirt, but it’s stuck to her clammy skin. He yanks on it with greedy fingers, tearing the fabric, and the shirt rips from neckline to hem, baring her breasts.

Cool air hits her nipples and she shivers, arching into his touch. Joseph’s hands are warm and slightly damp from cleaning, and calluses earned from stocking boxes at the drugstore make her skin buzz and her legs feel like jelly. It feels incredible, his warm hands on her chilled skin, and she slumps back against the wall again, trusting it to hold her up.

“My bonny Belle.” He chokes on her name as he cups her breasts, then his lips and tongue fasten around a nipple with an animal groan.

He is never forceful when they make love; preferring her to take the lead, but today Joseph is in control, and her spine tingles with warmth and excitement. His hungry, insistent mouth on her breasts and the needy, almost angry groans tearing from his throat make her feel possessed, _taken_. He suckles hard with lips and teeth, marking her, and she cries out, tugging on his pajama pants, feeling slick, hot, and desperate to be filled.  

He peels her shorts and underpants off in one roll, helping her to kick them away while she fumbles with the drawstring holding his pants around his waist. The pants drop around his ankles and he lines them up and slams his cock inside her in one smooth motion, all the way to the hilt.

She wraps a leg around his waist, drawing him deeper still, and strokes his quivering flanks while he pounds into her. A handful of thrusts later, he grits his teeth and cries out, and she feels the sweet warmth of his release against her thighs.

His head drops against her shoulder. When he meets her gaze, the lust in his eyes has turned to shame. “Belle, I’m…”

“Shhhhh.” She silences his apology with a kiss. She rubs against his softening cock and grips his wrist, guiding his hand to the place where they’re joined. “Make me come. _Please_ , Joseph.”

Her needy whines seems to pull him out of his stupor, and he presses the heel of his palm against her nub, rubbing in firm, tight circles. Two fingers plunge inside her while his thumb massages her clit. She bucks against his hand, begging him to continue in a string of inarticulate moans.

“You want more?” he whispers in her ear, and the fingers inside her throbbing channel still.

“Yes!” She shunts her hips and braces herself on his shoulders, trying to force his fingers to move. _“More…more…”_

He drives a third finger inside her, crooking them, and at long last begins to move again. In and out he thrusts in a slow, easy glide, mimicking the press of his cock. Pressure builds in her belly, almost unbearable, and she keens, shaking with the need for release.

“You feel so _good_ , Belle.” He croons against her temple, his husky brogue driving her insane along with his hands, which seem to be _everywhere_. “So beautiful, so hot and wet for me. I feel like I could come again just from touching you like this!”

She moans and throws her head back, smacking the wall again, and he increases the pressure and the tempo, his thumb and forefinger pinching and twisting her clit, his other hand digging into the flesh at her hip, holding her up on trembling legs.

“Can you come for me now, sweetheart? I love you so much, Belle.”

The anguished, loving words wash over her and she falls apart, lightening racing up her spine, and she screams his name. It goes on and on, and there’s nothing but the clench of her body around his fingers and his hot breath in her ear, coaxing her to come.

His hands on her body are gentle and slow through the aftershocks, and a sweet lethargy settles in her bones. She slumps into his arms as he pulls his fingers out of her, then sucks them into his mouth while she watches, still panting from her release. 

She’s a mess, her jogging shorts and panties wound around one ankle, her ruined t-shirt hanging across her arms and back like a vest, her hair damp and tangled with rain and sweat. She runs her fingers over her swollen, tingling lips and giggles.

Joseph hikes up his pants with a relieved laugh of his own and inclines his head toward the bedroom.

Belle smiles and nods. It’s a bad day for a run, but it’s a good day to keep her husband in bed.

Arms wrapped around each other, they stumble toward their room, still dazed and clumsy from their pleasure. Belle tucks Joseph into the freshly washed sheets, then pulls on clean boxer-briefs (red ones, this time) and a soft, torn grey sweatshirt. She joins him under the covers and snuggles close, wrapping her legs around his and tickling his calves with her cold feet.

“Belle, I’m…” he pauses when she raises an eyebrow, daring him to continue. “No, no, I’m not sorry,” he says with a wistful smile. “I’m really not.”

“Good!” She giggles, punching his shoulder playfully. “I don’t ever want you to be sorry for wanting me, Joseph. I love you so much.”

“I know,” he says, his tone serious. “Belle, I do.”

Birds begin to chirp, signaling the end of the storm, and she nods toward the mist-coated windows. “Look, it’s stopped raining. It’s still early enough for us to shower and make the noon service, if you want.”

“Or we could listen to the sermon online,” he says, slumping against the pillows with another lopsided grin and wrapping his arms around her. “I’m comfortable.”

“I like the way my husband thinks.” Content, she kisses his nose and settles against his chest, listening to the leaves on the tree near their building shower gentle drops on the siding in a gentle patter.

Outside, sunshine breaks through the clouds, turning them from black to silver, and a rainbow rises in the sky.

###

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed this short series of Macelle married lovemaking goodness. Thanks for reading and for all the lovely comments.


End file.
